


The Edge Of

by piecesofalice



Category: Life
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piecesofalice/pseuds/piecesofalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This didn't happen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Edge Of

\--

  
_I'm drinking what used to be sin  
And touching the edge of her skin_   
"You Make Me Smile", Blue October

  
\---

  
“This didn’t happen.”

  
“Well, it did happen.”

  
“It _didn’t_, I mean that.”

  
“It’s impossible to say something didn’t happen, when it obviously did, considering that-"

  
“If you continue that sentence, I will throw you out, hide your clothes and call the SWAT team.”

  
“I have no problem with being naked. It’s natural.”

  
“Please, _please_ shut up.”

\---

  
Particularly messy murders leave scars on more than just the parties involved. Ask Charlie Crews, with his hidden prison tatts and sudden need for Vitamin C; murder’s a bitch and so are the people who commit it.

  
He’s being driven home by his partner, and she’s quiet. This isn’t exactly world-shattering, but she’s more than quiet, pensive or horrified or angry or tired, and her hands are gripping the wheel making her knuckles whiter than the thin line that used to be her mouth.

  
“You okay?”

  
“Sure.”

  
Right.

  
Dani pulls the car over, expertly, into a spot and gets out of the car. She’s half-way across the street when Charlie calls out the window “this is your house”, and he only knows she heard him by the way her body seems to deflate like a lead balloon.

  
“It’s fine, Reese.” Stumbling out of the car, locking it behind him, he runs over the road and forgets about his coat on the backseat. It’s not cold though, but she seems like she is, and he realises the dead, mutilated kids they just left behind in the morgue has effected her more than he originally thought.

  
“I have a couch,” she mutters, and they walk together, apart, to her front door and through to her empty, impersonal apartment and he wonders if he should grab his coat because he doesn’t think she has spare blankets.

  
It’s 2am, and no-one speaks.

  
He doesn’t exactly know when she jumped on top of him, but he knows it went from _Pardon?_ to _WHOA_ when his head cracked against the wall and a framed print of some faceless American landscape that he’s certain came with the apartment.

  
She’s tiny, and her mouth is all over him and the Sane Detective part of him wants to stop but the Charlie Crews, Normal Human Male and Still Getting Over a 12 Year Dry Spell part is overriding like an overbite.

  
“Reese,” he manages, but she’s stuck her tongue in and – hey – she’s lost her shirt and her plain black t-shirt bra is more than he can handle. “Dani!”

  
Her hair is everywhere. “You, look like, a crazy woman. What...?” Breathless is an understatement, but he tries to be the voice of reason.

  
“This doesn’t mean anything, Crews,” she pants. He forgets to be Zen when his hormones overwhelm his brain, and everything goes to black when his pants go down with her.

  
\--

  
She’s tiny, but there’s curves and lines and _breasts_, and she’s soft like a girl but still as hard as Detective Daniela Reese is in the bull pit. Rough, pulling his hair and pushing against him; not allowing him to take the reins until _she says so_ and he _knows_ this is just her way of forgetting those kids but hell, it’s helping him too.

  
Charlie flips her, and she’s submissive for a moment, allowing him to trace around and play maps along her stomach. She touches his tattoos, dark, smudged prison jobs meaning “zen” and “hope” and “whatever”; before she almost lunges like a tiger and he’s taken again.

  
When they come separately, it’s strange and she cries but she hides her face.

  
It’s the best lay he’s had since getting out of jail, but he’d never tell her that, so he rolls away and waits until he hears the breathing of sleep.

  
It will be weird in the morning, he thinks. For now, he rolls back to her and wraps her up, because for once, she deserves to be more than just protected.

  
\---

  
“Should we talk about this?”

  
“Pass me my pants.”

  
“I think it’s going to affect our working relationship.”

  
“Shirt.”

  
“I’ve seen you naked.”

  
“If you don’t shut up, Crews, I swear to God…”

  
“Here’s your bra. That goes on before the shirt.”

\---

  
_Fin._

  
\---


End file.
